


Season of the Witch

by WanderingJane



Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Depictions of depression, Gen, Mild Language, set post-Uncanny Avengers Vol. 2, sometimes Wanda flies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-03
Updated: 2015-07-03
Packaged: 2018-04-07 13:09:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4264395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WanderingJane/pseuds/WanderingJane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wanda parts ways with the Uncanny Avengers, and strikes out on her own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Season of the Witch

The first thing Wanda does when she's settled into her new apartment is to plop down on her couch, and watch the evening news, a hot cup of tea in her hands. There are still a few boxes that she hasn't gotten around to unpacking strewn around the tiny living room, but they can wait. 

She takes a sip of her tea, wincing at as she burns her tongue, and tries to focus on the news, but the creeping feeling she's had in the pit of her stomach all day is distracting. 

It's only her first night away from the team, and she's already lonely. Pietro had been upset with her when she told him of her intentions to leave, and Steve had, in his own gentle, concerned way, asked her to reconsider, but Wanda had been adamant. In her mind, she pictured something like out of a movie - cooking dinner for herself, decorating her apartment, frequent visits by Pietro and Lorna, maybe even Billy and Tommy. This is what she wanted, what she promised a year ago in Latveria - to take some time for herself and figure out what she wanted to do in light of everything that had happened.

She valued her privacy in the mansion, guarded her precious moments alone to mediate and practice her spells. But now, her small apartment seeming cavernous and empty, and a cold, dreary loneliness plagues her. The pressure on her chest increases more and more until -

The cup slips from her hand, spilling hot tea over her pants and couch, before shattering on the floor.

Wanda bursts into tears. She sits in her stained sweat pants and sobs into the couch cushion for what feels like hours. It's an overwhelming kind of hurt, the loneliness and awful sadness, the feeling of helplessness that's been building for years. Every time she starts to gain some kind of stability in her life, yet another power-hungry supervillain tries - and often succeeds - to take over her body, to use her cursed powers for their own schemes. Her magic, her own body, feels foreign to her. 

As Clint would say, everything fucking sucks. 

Wanda reaches for the phone, knowing that Pietro could be at her door in seconds, but stops. Pietro's with the new Avengers team, probably sitting through a movie night with Steve and Peter. Maybe even joined by Rogue. Or maybe Steve invited Clint to join them. If she calls him, she'll pull him away from the team, and that's not what she wants. 

Besides, she wants to get through the first night on her own. 

Her eyes sting when she raises her head off the couch cushion, but the tears have stopped. She tugs her loose pants off and scrubs half-heartedly at the drying stains on the couch. Tomorrow, she'll deal with it tomorrow.

She drops to her knees and picks up the broken shards off the floor. She doesn't have a trash can yet, and flounders for a second before tossing them in one of the empty cardboard boxes she has stacked in a corner. 

She sighs, and rubs a tired hand across her eyes. She doesn't have the energy to go look a clean pair of pants, so she pulls the worn blanket she had draped on the couch over her bare legs, and tries once more to watch the news. 

She's just starting to dose when the new anchor's cheerful voice turns grave and anxious. 

" - interrupt with breaking news. We're just getting reports of an attack on - " The blanket slips off her legs as Wanda sits up, scrambling to find the remote to raise the volume. "- appears to be the work of an unknown, super-powered assailant. Officials urge citizens to steer clear of the area while they work to evacuate those still trapped underground." 

Wanda doesn't move for a long while. The tears have stopped, but a kind of numbness has settled into her muscles. The attack isn't far from her apartment, but she can't bring herself to get up. 

She isn't the only superhero in New York. It doesn't have to be her. Someone else will help. 

A shriek comes from the television screen and the reporter disappears from view. The view shifts back to the horrified looks on the anchors' faces. 

Wanda's half-way to her closet, her heart in her throat, before the anchors' begin to speak. When she unpacked earlier, she hadn't expected to wear any of her costumes that day, but she had still hung them neatly in the back of her closet. She grabs the first costume she sees and shimmies into it, barely remembering to grab her tiara before running out the door. She's flying down the stairs, keys in her mouth as she tugs on her gloves, when she almost bumps into one of her neighbors, only just managing to move out of the way in time.

She spits out her keys and yells, "Sorry," as she dashes past at a speed that she thinks might make her brother proud. 

If her neighbor - a little old woman hunched over her cane - is surprised to see the Scarlet Witch in her building, she gives no indication. Wanda pauses for a split-second when she sees a black cat climbing the stairs after the woman, it's tail held proudly in the air. Shaking her head, Wanda bounds the last few steps. She hears the elderly woman's indignant _humph_ and the cat's _meowed_ response as she runs down the next flight of stairs.

As soon as she bursts through the front door, she launches herself into the air, hovering high above the apartment building as she gathers her bearings. When she spots the crime scene, she flies toward it as fast as she can. 

She lands with a quiet _thud_ in a crowd of police officers and reporters. The injured news reporter sits in an ambulance, an EMT attending to a large gash on her head. 

"Oh, thank god," one of the police officers says when he sees her, "The others on their way?"

"No, " Wanda says, "It's just me."

"Oh," he says, skepticism creeping onto his face, "Which one are you again?"

"I am the Scarlet Witch," Wanda answers, a frown pulling down at the corners of her mouth.

"You, uh, think you can handle it?"

Wanda tries not to let her annoyance show on her face as she pushes past the man and runs down the stairs into the subway station. She'd once been a respected Avenger, but recently...

The scene that greets her at the bottom of the stairs startles her out of her thoughts. Rubble and concrete litter the floor, and parts of the station have caved in. There are three large bundles covered by white sheets in the middle of the floor.

Wanda swallows roughly. If she hadn't hesitated earlier, if she'd leapt into action as soon as she had heard the news, maybe she could have saved them. 

"Miss?" someone asks and lays a hand on her shoulder. Wanda turns around and is greeted by a tired-looking police officer. His uniform is torn and his face is covered by a sheen of sweat, but his eyes are clear and sharp. "There are still people trapped inside one of the cars," he says, gesturing into the tunnel. "We've got a crew down there, but there's some woman keeping them from getting through. She's got some kind of powers." 

"I'll handle it," Wanda says.

"You better hurry, the woman's doing something to the foundation. Doesn't look like it'll hold out for too long." Wanda nods and begins to walk away, her mind sifting through spells that will help fortify the walls, when the officer calls out to her. "Good luck!" he says.

Surprised, but pleasantly so, Wanda jumps off the platform and onto the tracks, her glowing hands held out in front of her to light her way in the dark tunnel. The train car isn't too far ahead, and she can see the rescue crew holding up lamps. The mystery woman is nowhere in sight. 

"What 's the problem?" Wanda asks the first man she sees.

"There's some kind of barrier keeping us from getting inside," he says in a thick accent similar to Steve's. "Green lady's around her somewhere. She's...she's somethin' else."

_Green lady?_

"Can you get in from the other side?"

"Nah, barrier goes around the whole thing."

"You and your men had better stand back then," Wanda says. She flicks her wrist and flings a hex at the thin, green layer covering the car. It ripples for a moment, but the barrier holds firm.

Wanda moves to try again, when a low, sultry voice calls out, " _You_ , again?" A figure moves out from the shadows. The first thing Wanda sees is the green of the woman's dress and a flash of blonde hair. 

When she steps fully into the light, Wanda almost growls. "Enchantress," she says through gritted teeth. Red energy crackles around her, and several of the workers' lamps go out. 

"Still as unpredictable as ever, Witch," Amora says with a laugh. 

"Let them go, Enchantress," Wanda says with as firm a voice as she can muster. 

Amora taps a finger to her cheek and pretends to consider it. "Hmm...what is the delightful Midgarian phrase? Ah, yes, I believe it is _in your dreams_ ," she says before the entire tunnel is ignited by a blinding green light.

Wanda conjures a quick shield around herself and the rescue crew behind her, but by the time her vision returns to normal, she finds only the women behind her. One of them sucks in a shaky breath and points toward the train. The men have formed a protective circle around Amora, their besotted expressions a clear indication that they've fallen under Amora's enchantments. 

"I fear our reunion has come to an end, Witch," Amora says. She flings a green-tinged energy blast powerful enough that it knocks Wanda off her feet before she even has a chance to try to block it. 

"Behind you," a voice shouts, and Wanda spins around in time to stop one of the enchanted workers from hitting her over the head with a lamp. 

Wanda kicks him once hard in the chest, and casts a spells to undo Amora's enchantment. The spell breaks easily, and the man's eyes soon clear. 

The others surround her in an instant. There are six of them in total, enough of them to be a distraction for Wanda. They swarm her, but Wanda, instead of removing the spells one by one, gestures with her fingers and the men drop to the floor.

One of the women rushes forward and drops to her knees in front of the men. She looks up at Wanda, her eyes wide with fear. "What did you -"

"They're asleep," she answers, her voice distracted as she surveys that barrier around the train, "They won't hurt themselves this way." 

She steps closer, and warm energy pools in her hands. Wanda waits until the hex is a dense, almost tangible form, before throwing it at the shield. She alternates between casting spells and firing hexes, sweat breaking out across her forehead as the minutes go by without success.

Her concentration breaks when a loud rumble echoes throughout the tunnel and the walls begin to shake. Screams erupt from inside the train, but whether it's because of the shaking or because Amora is inside, standing over a cowering figure, Wanda doesn't know. She a greater amount of energy into the barrier, and mutters a string of spells under her breath, until the barrier ripples and evaporates into the stuffy tunnel. 

Broken glass crunches under her boots as Wanda makes her way slowly toward the train, the remaining workers' own footsteps echoing quietly behind her. She stops in front of the train, curls her fingers, and casts another spell to strengthen the foundation and walls of the tunnel. 

While the workers try to get the train's emergency doors open, Wanda walks around, peering through the windows in the hopes of finding Amora. She sees a flash of green in her peripheral vision before she's thrown on her back. She kicks her legs up, and jumps to her feet, a gloved hand clutching at her side. Amora's magic is not as strong on Earth as it is on Asgard, but she still possesses superhuman strength. 

"You are trying my patience," the Enchantress says from afar before teleporting herself in front of Wanda. "And while I have enjoyed our reunion, I have far more important matters to attend to."

Wanda doesn't let Amora goad her, only pushes past the pain in her ribs, and throws another hex at Amora. The Enchantress answers with a spell of her own before vanishing and reappearing right behind her. She tries to kick Wanda, but Wanda, thankful for Steve's training over the years, dodges. Wanda's fist collides with Amora's face with a satisfying _crack_ , causing her to stumble a few steps back. 

Behind her, Wanda sees the rescue workers still trying to pry open the doors. Wanda fires another hex at Amora before she has a chance to recover, but the Enchantress teleports out of the way. She reappears seconds later and flings another spell at Wanda, who throws her arms up and blocks it when a spell of her own. 

Red and green energy clash and collide again and again as Wanda and Amora fight, Wanda carefully steering the battle away from the train in the process. Another loud rumble shakes the ground, and Wanda takes advantage of Amora's momentary surprise to fire a burst red energy in the woman's face. Amora falls to the ground, her face twisted in pain, her normally bright eyes wide and unfocused. 

Wanda's fingers curl to cast one final spell to put Amora to sleep, when the Enchantress smiles, the malice in the curve of her lips sending a flash of fear through Wanda. 

"See you soon!" she says. Before Wanda can react, Amora releases a wave of green energy at the tunnel walls, and teleports away. 

"No!" Wanda screams and she dives for where Amora lay, but it's too late. Frustration prickles at Wanda's eyes, and that same helpless, drowning feeling washes over her. If she had just moved a little faster or used her powers better...

The ground begins to shake again and cracks appear on the walls. _Amora's spell._

"The doors are sealed shut. We can't get them open," one of the workers yells to her. The naked fear in the woman's eyes spurns Wanda into action. 

"Stand back!" she says, raising her gloved hands. It's simple, what she wants to do: use her chaos magic to open the doors. When she was younger and had less control of her powers, she would make things like that happen all the time - light bulbs would explode, windows would shatter, doors would fall off their hinges. Aided by magic, her control is much better now and she should be able to get the doors open, especially after fending off an Asgardian sorceress, but a sliver of doubt crawls into Wanda's mind. What if she can't control it, and the windows fall in or she hurts someone? 

Wanda shakes the thoughts away; there isn't any time for doubt. She curls her fingers and red energy engulfs the door. For a moment, nothing happens, then the door is ripped from away from the train and crashes onto the floor. 

"All right everyone, single-file please," one of the women shouts. She turns to Wanda, "Can you keep the walls steady long enough for everyone to get out?"

Wanda nods once, and goes to work. She fortifies the walls and foundations with spells, and manipulates probability, decreasing the chances that everything will crumble, but Amora's spell is powerful, far more than Wanda thought her capable of. One of the walls cracks and starts to come down. Wanda throws her arms up and her magic fuses itself into the cracks, making the stones shine a brilliant red. Too afraid that it'll all come falling down if she lets go, Wanda remains with her arms extended, her muscles burning with exertion as the rescue crew guides out the last of the passengers. 

"Everyone's out," one of the women tells her. Wanda waits until the woman has disappeared onto the platform before she lowers her arms and runs down the tunnel. A few stones fall, but the walls hold. 

"You made it," the police officer from earlier tells her as he helps her onto the high platform. Wanda hums in acknowledgement, too tired to say anything else now that the adrenaline has begun to wear off. "You saved a lot of people today. Thank you." 

Wanda finally pulls her eyes off the dirty floor and looks around. Dozens of injured people are being helped up the stairs, a few of them in stretchers. The men who had been enchanted have woken up, and are talking to the police officers, no doubt describing Amora's attack. 

"Good night, officer," Wanda says. 

She's at the base of the stairs when the officer calls out to her, "I like the costume, by the way. Classics are always the best." 

Wanda looks down at her attire with surprise. She'd been in such a hurry, she hadn't noticed she'd put on her old costume, the one with the heavy red cape and pink tights. The familiar weight of the cape at her shoulders and the comfort of her worn boots brings a small, surprised smile to Wanda's face. Fond memories of her time with the Avengers drift lazily through her mind as she slowly ascends the stairs. By the time she steps out into the crowded street, a curious lightness has settled on her. 

Some of the people in the crowd clap and cheer when they see her emerge, exhausted and covered in dust, but triumphant. Three of the police officers nod politely at her, the one that had been skeptical of her earlier among them. Wanda waves at them before leaping into the air again, and flying home. 

She lands on the roof of her building a few minutes later, bending her knees to absorb the impact the way Carol showed her. Carol, Steve, Clint, Lorna, Thor. _Pietro_. Wanda will always be an Avenger, and she'll gladly offer her assistance should the team need her help, but this is what she needs now: time apart to be on her own, to try something different. 

Wanda turns onto her floor and trudges down the hallway, one glove in her mouth as her bare hand searches the minuscule pockets of her costume, looking for her keys. Maybe a new costume is in order, one that has ample pockets. And pants. And a cape. 

A quiet _meow_ startles her enough that she drops her glove and keys. She spins around to find her elderly neighbor's cat looking at her with curious eyes. Wanda smiles.

"Hello there," she says, kneeling down in front of the cat. "Are you lost?" The cat blinks at her, and Wanda could almost swear that it's expression is amused. 

Wanda pets the cat once, and pushes herself to her feet with a quiet grunt, already anticipating how sore she's going to be tomorrow. She starts to reach down to pick up the cat, when it darts away from her and all but saunters down the hallway. It stops in front of an apartment and _meows_ once, looking up at the closed down in expectation. The door opens, and the cat turns to look at her once more before walking inside. The door shuts with an indignant _bang_. 

Wanda laughs and shakes her head, amused and bewildered all at once, and walks into her apartment. 

She toes off her dirty boots and leaves them by the door before walking into the living room, shedding another part of her costume with every step. 

The television is still on; she must have forgotten to turn it off before she left. It's late now, and the news are long over, but a black-and-white movie is playing. 

Wanda ignores it while she goes to her bedroom to find a pair of pajamas, settling for a worn pair of sweats and an old t-shirt. She walks back into the living room and lets herself fall heavily onto the couch. 

A bone-deep weariness has settled in her, but the sadness and helpless feeling has ebbed, at least for a while. Guilt at Amora's escape still prickles at her, but Wanda's certain that she hasn't seen the last of the Enchantress. She isn't sure what worries her more, whatever nefarious scheme Amora's planning or the fear that she'll start to sink again, that she'll be overwhelmed by sorrow again. 

A scream from the television makes her raise her eyes to the screen. A smile comes unbidden to Wanda's lips when she recognizes the movie. It's an old Vincent Price horror film, one that she's seen dozens of times. 

Tomorrow she'll call Doc Samson, ask if he'll help her, but for now, Wanda pulls a blanket around her shoulders and settles in to watch the movie.

**Author's Note:**

> Petition for Amora to show up in Wanda's book as an initial antagonist/eventual reluctant-ally. And for Wanda to get a cat.
> 
> btw, in case anyone was wondering, the movie Wanda was going to watch at the end is _House on Haunted Hill_.


End file.
